


Help a Brother Out

by StarlessSkies



Series: Arthur Morgan/Reader [5]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlessSkies/pseuds/StarlessSkies
Summary: I know I stole the title from one of the missions in game but I just thought it was fun. This is a two parter with John Marston playing cupid as he tries to help Arthur and the reader realise their feelings for each other. Just a silly idea I was playing with. I’ll hopefully have the second part up in a few days. I’ve never written anything for John so I hope he’s not too out of character.





	Help a Brother Out

John Marston didn’t exactly consider himself romantic by any means. He forgot anniversaries, birthdays and special occasions; always clueless as to why Abigail was annoyed with him.

But there was one thing he did always notice and ironically; that was the first signs of romance. In the early years with the Van Der Line gang, John was reserved and quiet. But noticed a hell of a lot more than he ever let on. It was clear from the beginning there was an attraction between you and Arthur but it seemed both had either chosen to ignore it or were just down right oblivious to it. Either way however…it was driving John mad!

Whenever the three of you went out on a job, you were always distracted. Whenever John wanted to discuss business with Arthur, the man was always too busy stealing glances at you to listen. Then there was the time you almost crashed the wagon John was riding in  _‘because you thought Arthur winked at you.’_

It was quickly becoming a problem for John, so he decided that if the two of you couldn’t figure things out for yourselves… then he’d do it for you.

It had started with small things at first. Purposely making sure you ended up on jobs together; alone. Changing the patrol list when no one was looking so you’d be together on guard duty; once again alone.

But it seemed your obliviousness was a force to be reckoned with. After weeks of working together; you still hadn’t made a move! Neither of you had!

John decided perhaps it was time to move onto plan B. But he needed to be sneaky.

He noticed Abigail by the stream washing the last of the laundry. The rest hung out to dry on a tree branch not too far away. He approached cautiously; after the rather heated argument they’d had the night before was still a little raw. But figured if she knew what he was planning, perhaps she’d find it sweet enough to forgive him.

“Say Abigail…what kinda gifts do women like?” He asked gently, his voice steady but careful lest she explode into a rage yet again. “ Ya know the kind a man can show his feelings with? To show he cares I guess?”

It was obvious to the naked eye that Abigail openly blushed at John’s question but the man himself didn’t seem to catch it before it was wiped from her cheeks by a coy smile.

“Why John you wonderful man!” She gasped in delight but John honestly couldn’t understand why, did she know about his plan to help Arthur? Had he mentioned it and forgotten? He pushed it to the back of his mind as he focused on the task he’d set himself, kneeling down to sit level with her.

“Well most women appreciate little things like flowers…” Abigail hummed in thought. John nodded. It was a start he supposed.

“Alright thank you…you uhhh you know what Y/N’s favourite flower is then?”

The look on Abigail’s face dropped instantly; her nostrils flared in anger as she swiped at John with her scrubbing brush. He flinched out of the way, stumbling back onto his feet as it narrowly missed his head.

“DAMN YOU JOHN MARSTON!! YOU WRETCH! YOU DEGENERATE!!” She bellowed much to the confusion of her husband. Dodging her swings as he slowly backed away.

“Easy woman! I was only askin’ damnnit! What’s your problem?!” John rasped as he tripped over his own feet and turned to walk back into camp away from his seething wife. Apparently asking Abigail’s opinion had been a horrible idea, but he couldn’t understand why she was so livid with him. Once again he’d ending up saying the wrong thing. Though it was more frustrating because he only wanted to help you and Arthur. Maybe he needed to rethink things; his plan was clearly not going to work if all he did was annoy everyone else in camp.

His eyes narrowed as he thought briefly; a moment taken to curse himself for choosing to leave his hat in his tent, as he stood in the piercing afternoon sun. The heat radiating through his thin shirt. He watched silently; taking in the merriment around the place for a change. He spotted Uncle, Bill, Javier and Sean gathered around the camp fire. Joyfully screeching out a jumble of drunken songs and crude rhymes, apparently deciding that the day had gone on long enough without a drink. He turn to see Dutch and Hosea both hunched over the table by Dutch’s tent with heads held in tired hands as they uttered strategy plans lowly for their ears only.

Then there were the girls constantly being scolded by Miss Grimshaw for not working hard enough. Tilly and Mary-Beth rolling their eyes quietly while Karen; forever the firework she was, daring to talk back and only angering Susan further. Much to the amusement of John, thanking his lucky stars it wasn’t him on the receiving end of her fury for a change.

He saw you keeping to yourself as usual; sat by the base of a large tree. Busy hands calloused and raw from cleaning your gun, now hard at work sharpening your hunting knife. He faltered for a second before daring to look in Arthur’s direction and sure enough; there he was.

Journal in hand, sketching away and stealing glance after glance at you not eight feet away. The same lovesick spell cast upon him as he pretended not to see when you looked in his direction. Quickly snapping his attention back to the book in his lap. This was getting ridiculous and John couldn’t stop his eyes rolling nor the scoffed huff that passed his lips as he pushed on towards his horse.

——————————————————————————————————

It was only when John had been riding around for an hour or two that he realised something; he didn’t have a damn clue about flowers!

Of course he’d heard Pearson and Miss Grimshaw talk about herbs when it came to cooking. And there always the knowledge he’d learned of which poisonous plants to stay away from; especially after his incident of landing in poison ivy after losing a scrap with Arthur when he was younger.

Even now the thought of it made him itch.

In the end he decided to play it safe. Daisies. It made sense he guessed. Your horse was named Daisy after all. Hopefully you’d find the gesture sweet and if you assumed that Arthur was the one leaving the flowers; even better.

He wasted no time in picking them, tucking them safely into his saddle bag before he headed back home. Secretly hoping no one had noticed his absence. 

——————————————————————————————————–

As the day came to a close; everyone in camp seemed to wind down for the night. Except those who had been drinking all afternoon, instead only singing that much louder and more out of tune.

John Marston however has chosen to skip the merriment and sat in the solitude of his tent. He watched anxiously as you finishing washing your dinner plate before strolling back towards the direction of your own sleeping quarters. The canopy flapping lazily in the idle breeze that set in as dusk calmed the sky above.

You paused. Your eyes drawn to the small bouquet of daisies placed upon your pillow. The petals a spotless bright white, shinning in the low rays of the setting sun.

You smiled as you picked them up; perfectly wrapped a single piece of string. Breathing in their pretty scent exhaled with a dreamy sigh. And when you turned to cast a glance at the surrounding members of the gang; you gaze is immediately caught by John who all but scrambles out sight and further into his tent.

It was a sweet gesture but certainly one you hadn’t been expecting from John Marston of all people. It was hard to tell when exactly you’d caught the man’s eye. It seemed you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did.

————————————————

Back his tent, John was spiraling; his mind reeling from the stupidity of lingering too long. Arthur was going to kill him.  _Abigail_ was going to kill him.

He truly had not thought this through and was starting to wonder if this whole ordeal he’d caused himself was worth it. Especially if he couldn’t even get you to focus your flirty eyes over at Arthur.

This was a mess! And he spent most of the night trying to figure a way out of it. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning, that a new foolproof plan finally came to him.

_Arthur’s journal._

The man wrote in it both day and night. He was certain that if Arthur had admitted his feelings anywhere or to anyone; they were written in that book. He just needed to find a way to get a hold of it without Arthur noticing.

But he quickly realised…that was easier said than done.


End file.
